


One Day

by heytheregisela



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Blood, Fake AH Crew, GTA AU, M/M, Myan - Freeform, RageHappy, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 17:59:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4358789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heytheregisela/pseuds/heytheregisela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Ryan shows up at Michael's apartment covered in blood at three in the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Day

Ryan certainly did have his own place – a lovely loft that he was more than proud of because the elegant style it possessed and the view of the city, making him feel more worth than he probably was at times. Even so, he still managed to find himself at Michael's apartment almost every night. Something about having Michael's company was wonderfully comforting, especially with how much of an excuse it gave him to know Michael better on a personal level than anyone else. For instance, Michael _loved_ video games. That applied to the rest of the guys as well, but Michael could be quite passionate about some. He even had video game themed tattoos, although they were rarely shown with that brown leather jacket of his he practically refused to take off unless the others had particular outfits planned for a job.

He would loudly voice his complaints about it when that happened, though, but Ryan had managed to get him to confess to him one night that the planned outfits were sometimes his favorite part. Really, confessing things to each other without any hesitation was beginning to become such a natural thing. Being _with_ each other just felt like the most normal thing, considering everything else they did when around the other guys. And they both liked it, without a doubt.

It was why it came to no one's surprise when they would go looking for Ryan to figure out that he wasn't home, that he was with Michael instead.

It was why Michael didn't let himself become frustrated when he was woken up at three in the morning; he already knew who was banging on his door. _I need to give that asshole the spare key_ , he thought to himself as he stumbled out of bed, and then he wondered why he hadn't yet. Ryan showing up at his door this late was slightly surprising, but Michael wasn't going to dwell on it, knowing Ryan had a good reason for doing so. He always did.

“Ryan, you-” Michael cut himself off after opening the door and seeing Ryan standing on the other side, blood dripping from, what he could tell, various places. The most prominent areas were definitely the cuts on his bottom lip and another near his right eyebrow, but Michael also couldn't ignore the scrap along his cheek. Ryan put his hands up to stop Michael from saying anything and Michael slowly closed his mouth as his eyebrows furrowed.

“It's not what it looks like?” Ryan tried, smiling crookedly to the left to avoid causing more discomfort to the cut.

Michael crossed his arms, “So, you're _not_ standing outside my door at three in the morning looking like you just got the _shit_ beaten out of you?”

“Hey,” Ryan drawled out, even sounding a bit offended, “you should have seen the other guys.”

“What-” Michael sputtered, his eyes widening. “ _Guys_? You went up against one person _alone_?”

“I'll admit, it wasn't my brightest idea, but,” Ryan gestured towards himself, “most of the blood you see isn't mine.”

“But this right here,” Michael said as he brought his hand up to gently wipe away a bit of the blood from the wound near Ryan's brow, “definitely is yours.” Ryan cringed at the contact and Michael immediately pulled away. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Could be worse,” Ryan joked. Michael shook his head and moved aside, allowing Ryan to walk on in before closing the door.

“Don't you fucking dare sit on my couch yet, Haywood,” Michael warned him as he hurried into the bathroom to grab what he needed. Ryan halted in his tracks toward said couch and stood still in the middle of the foyer. Michael opened the cabinet underneath the sick and pulled out his first aid kit that he could shamelessly say he used much too often. He made sure to grab a few small towels as well, damping one of them with some water, and headed back out to where Ryan was waiting.

“Jesus Christ, Ryan, you can at least take your jacket off; it's covered in blood,” Michael told him. Ryan raised an eyebrow, though he did oblige and Michael gently took it from him only to toss it aside. Ryan was going to say something about that when he noticed Michael's eyes scanning him from up and down.

“Okay, well, besides that dry blood in your hair and jeans and the fresh blood on your face, I think you're clean enough to sit,” Michael said, nodding toward the couch. Ryan swallowed hard and wandered over to it while Michael mentally noted the way he was moving slowly and how his hand kept going to his side.

Once Ryan was sitting, Michael went ahead and sat down in front of him on the coffee table. This way, they were pretty much at an equal height and Michael could clean his cuts up easier. He started to open the kit up and Ryan couldn't help but snicker.

“What?” Michael asked, glaring up at him.

“You just remind me a lot of my mom right now.”

“Oh, wow. Yeah, the way to my heart... comparing me to your _mom_.”

“Hey, she was a lovely woman. She let me get away with a lot of things.”

“Do _not_ call me 'lovely'. I already have to deal with Gavin calling me that every fucking day.”

Ryan laughed again, although this time, it seemed to hurt him a little. “Oh, yeah... Gavin.”

Michael merely smiled softly in return as he grabbed the damp towel. He brought it up to start lightly dabbing the cut on Ryan's lip. He also grabbed the other towel he had with him to wipe the blood trailing down the side of Ryan's face, being careful to avoid touching the scrape for now.

“Hold this against this your eyebrow; I don't want any blood getting on my couch,” Michael told him as he placed that towel in Ryan's hand. Ryan smiled lopsidedly again as he did what he was told. And as Michael continued to work with cleaning the cut and any dry blood near it, Ryan stared at him with the softest gaze. Michael didn't notice it, not until Ryan spoke up.

“I've never seen you like this.”

“Like what?” Michael asked, pausing his movements to lock eyes with Ryan's, and he purposely ignored the way his heart thudded in his chest.

“Bedhead, plain t-shirt and,” Ryan averted his eyes, “baggy shorts,” he sounded so amused.

Michael sighed and put his hand down. “I was asleep, unlike _some_ people who would rather go pick a fight with a group of guys in the middle of the night. Are you ever going to tell me the story?” He started to move onto treating the wound near the eyebrow, slapping Ryan's hand out of the way. Ryan allowed it and went back to watching Michael's expression go from concentration to relaxation as he got into what he was doing with ease.

“One day,” he finally answered. One day he would explain to Michael how the gang had cornered him to get information out of him about Michael himself. He would explain how somewhere between arguing about how he wasn't going to talk and trying to find a way around them he had let slip out that he was _completely_ and utterly in love with Michael and he wasn't – no, he _couldn't_ let anyone who meant harm anywhere near him.

One day he would explain that the reason for his feelings were obvious, because Michael made him smile the way no one else would ever be able to. Because Michael trusted him with his most personal secrets and he trusted Michael back. Because Michael had a laugh that was contagious and made Ryan's insides feel warmer. Because Michael was brave, quick-witted, and undeniably beautiful.

One day...

Michael pursed his lips at that and finished off caring for the wound by placing a cotton ball on it and keeping it in place with an adhesive bandage, because the bandage alone didn't seem like it would have been enough. He put the rest of the bandages and cotton balls away and Ryan watched as he pulled out some ointment next. Before doing anything with that, Michael gently started wiping the scrape on Ryan's cheek with a clean part of the damp towel.

Afterward, he opened up the tube and squeezed some of the cream onto a finger and proceeded to smearing it over the area. It was honestly very soothing, making the irritation cool off.

“Alright,” Michael then said, putting the ointment back into the kit and closing the entire thing up. “You're better, I guess. You're free to go into the bathroom and wash your hair a little in the sink, because,” he slowly touched parts of Ryan's hair that was coated in the dry blood as he stood, “you look crazier than usual.”

Ryan looked up at him. “Don't pretend you don't like it.” Michael grinned and moved away enough to give Ryan room to get on his feet. That's when Ryan hissed through his teeth and bent over as his hand went to clutch his side as it had earlier.

“Let me see that,” Michael told him, walking up to him again.

“No, I'm fine-” but Ryan was cut off by the feeling of Michael grabbing at the hem of his shirt. He gave in and Michael lifted his shirt up to reveal the large red marks over his ribs that were surely to be a blueish purple by the time the sun rose.

One day Ryan would explain how one of the gang members managed to grab him by his hair and slam him face first into the ground before another began to repeatedly kick his side. But not today... not when he could already see how concerned Michael was. The details of the event would do nothing but increase that worry and Michael deserved to return to his sleep as peacefully as he could.

“What the hell,” Michael whispered, inspecting the bruises carefully but not by touching them.

“It's not as bad as it looks,” Ryan sighed, though they both knew he was lying.

“God damnit, Ryan.”

“Worse things have happened to me, Michael-”

“But this wouldn't have happened if you weren't alone,” Michael was suddenly shouting, that concern on his face turning into annoyance. “ _Why_ were you out there alone this late?!”

“I was going for a walk,” Ryan answered, which was actually the truth. “I couldn't sleep.”

“If you couldn't sleep, then _why_ didn't you just come over?!” Michael was attempting to be angry, but it wasn't really working at the moment, not when the worry in his eyes was coming back.

Ryan's expression softened more and his lips twitched. “Halfway through my walk, it crossed my mind, and well, I'm here now...”

“You know, for being one of Geoff's best men on the crew, you're really _stupid_ ,” and it was the way Michael looked at Ryan when he said that – big eyes and brows twitched together – that had Ryan wrapping his arms around him, despite the aches in his body. Michael stiffened for a moment, but he did relax and embraced Ryan in return while his face hid in the crook of Ryan's neck. 

_I love you_ , Ryan urged to say, but no... not yet. One day, he would speak those words out loud. Right now, having Michael in his arms was already enough. Knowing Michael had just cared for him and his wounds was more than he needed, and so, he smiled and he didn't care how his lower lip hurt at how wide the smile was. 

It was worth it.

 


End file.
